


Get a Room

by liveonthesun



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveonthesun/pseuds/liveonthesun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>All she had wanted was a glass of orange juice. She thinks a person should be able to get a glass of orange juice without having to see Steve and Tony going at each other.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get a Room

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt "Natasha/Clint, Exhibitionism. Having sex in semi-public places, knowing that the other Avengers can hear them <3" at [avengerkink](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/1854.html).
> 
> beta'd by my dear [allthatihavemet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/allthatihavemet/profile).

"Get a room!" Natasha yells, because, really, this is getting ridiculous.

All she had wanted was a glass of orange juice. She thinks a person should be able to get a glass of orange juice without having to see Steve and Tony going at each other. Right now Tony is sitting on a counter and the two are joined at the mouth. At the sound of her voice, though, Steve jumps and pulls back quickly, bringing a thumb up to wipe his mouth and blushing ( _of course he's blushing,_ she thinks, _when is he not blushing._ )

Tony just rolls his eyes. "This _is_ a room, Natasha. A room _in my house_ for that matter. And look, it's not my fault that Fury got his panties in a twist and made you all come stay here, so I really don't see why I should have to suffer the repercussions and watch my own behavior _in my own house_. Go groveling back to Fury if you don't like it."

"Yes," Natasha replies, "because groveling is a thing I do."

Tony shrugs. "Just a suggestion."

She walks to the cabinets, brushing past Steve with a bit more force than probably necessary, and grabs a glass.

"There's no orange juice," she says after looking in the fridge for a minute.

"Oh, that was yours?" Tony asks. "See, I woke up this morning and really wanted some OJ, so I grabbed the carton and poured a glass and, _Jesus_ , Romanoff, how do you drink it with so much pulp? Why not just eat an orange? Anyway, I don't like being surprised by pulp first thing in the morning, so I may have, um, thrown it out?"

She glares at Tony. Tony grins back. Steve smiles at her apologetically.

She slams her glass down on the counter, rolls her eyes, and leaves.

***

"Somebody has to do something about them."

It's later that evening and she's sitting on the couch next to Clint, pretty well on her way to drunk. "I mean, it's not that I really have a problem with them, just them _all the time_ , fucking everywhere you look."

As if on cue, Steve and Tony walk into the room, Tony's hand in one of Steve's back pockets, leaning close and muttering something into the man's ear as Steve grins sheepishly.

Clint rolls his eyes as Natasha lets out a loud ahem. Neither of the two men seem to notice.

"So what are you going to do?" Clint asks.

She isn't really sure. Well, she isn't really sure until Steve suddenly presses Tony against the wall and buries his face against his neck. The solution, Natasha realizes, is retaliation.

And so she straddles Clint, turning and throwing one of her legs over his lap, placing her hands on either side of his head. Judging by the look on his face, this wasn't the answer he was expecting, and as she presses her mouth to his, he tenses underneath her. He must decide that it's not so bad, though, because he soon relaxes and begins kissing her back. His hands come up to thread through her hair, and she can't help but roll her hips against his.

It feels...good. It's been a while since she's had any physical contact like this, though god knows with the combat and sparring practice, she's only been getting more and more frustrated, and _God_ , it feels so _damn_ good -- Clint's hands in her hair, his tongue in her mouth, his teeth against her lips -- and she very nearly forgets why she started it to begin with until there's a thud and a groan not far from her that she knows belongs to neither her nor Clint.

Right. She flicks her eyes up, not breaking off the kiss. The grunt must have come from Steve, because he's now the one against the wall, and she's guessing that wasn't his idea. They're directly in line of Steve's sight and she knows that if he would just look up, he'd see them and maybe get the hint. She moans loudly, not without feeling, but definitely exaggerated.

And yep, Steve looks up.

"Ah, Tony," he says, and then, "aaah, _Tony_ ," as the other man's tongue flicks lightly behind his earlobe.

"Mmhmm?"

"Um, we're not alone."

To emphasize Steve's point, Natasha takes her shirt off as Tony turns his head to look at them. All he does, though, is say, "Oh. Right." And there's a wicked grin on his face as he turns right back to Steve.

Though now Clint's hands are at her breasts, palms pressing hot through the fabric of her bra, fingers tracing the lace at the edges. Her skin prickles where his mouth is pressed against the hollow of her neck, teeth skimming against the skin, and as he brings one of his hands down her stomach, around her hip, dipping underneath the waistline of her jeans to grab her ass, there's nothing exaggerated about the sound she makes.

And she doesn't even care that she's watching Tony reach for Steve's cock, doesn't even care that Steve seems to have resigned to Tony and stopped caring about the couple on the couch.

If anything, it's helping.

Clint has one of her breasts out now, didn't even bother with taking her bra off, just pulled the cup down until it was free. She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, pressing his face to her chest and he takes the bare breast in his mouth, sucking a couple of times before bringing his teeth to bite at the nipple, then taking as much of it back in as he can.

She's rutting against him and there's the deep sound of _god tony tony yes_ not far from her and she's pretty sure Tony is on his knees and really this isn't going as planned, but she thinks it might be going better, and dear god _if she doesn't come soon..._

She stands up suddenly, and there's a growl from Clint as he reaches for her hips to pull her back down again, but she makes quick work of her jeans, and is ready when he does. Her panties are still on, but Clint just slides his fingers underneath, so warm and rough against her clit and then dipping inside her cunt as her hands are at his belt, and she shudders as they slide deep, twisting as she undoes his zipper. She has him out soon, and his fingers come out as she's lining them up, and as she slides down over him, he -- _and oh god it is obscenely wonderful_ \-- makes a show of bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking her off of them, licking his lips afterwards.

And her mouth is over his again, his tongue mimicking the rhythm of her hips rolling against him, though it's not long before her head drops to rest on his shoulder as she shakes and gasps, and if the sounds she's hearing are any indicator, she thinks the same thing is happening to Steve, and it's not long before Clint follows.

She's going to need a few minutes to recover, she thinks, but, unfortunately, Tony doesn't really have anything to recover from.

"Ms. Romanoff," he says, walking over to stand beside the arm of the couch. "That was a gross display of public affection and I'm going to have to ask the two of you to please keep it in the bedroom from here on out."

She lifts a hand to flip him off at the exact came moment Clint says, "Fuck off, Stark."

"Right," Tony replies, "I'm pretty sure that's already been done. Well, for everyone except me. So like the decent human being I am, I'm going to go have my orgasms in private."

She's still trying to catch her breath and her face is still buried against Clint's shoulder, so she's not really sure what Steve is doing in all of this, but she definitely hears the two sets of footsteps leaving the room in a hurry.

"So, that was interesting," Clint says when they've gone.

"Interesting?" She asks. "It felt a whole lot better than just _interesting_."

"Yeah, well, maybe we can, you know, not have Stark and Rogers in the room next time."

"Right. Next time."

_(Next time it's because Clint could hear Steve and Tony from his room, and then somehow Natasha's hand hit the intercom system as Clint fucked her against his bedroom wall.)_


End file.
